


The Dinner

by angry_yuri (hazyamethyst)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cute, Funny, M/M, Mutual Pining, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, i'm glad that's a tag btw, viktor is feeling romantic™, yuri is angry as usual, yuuri is quiet and blushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:03:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8959270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazyamethyst/pseuds/angry_yuri
Summary: Victor takes Yuuri out for dinner after the Grand Prix Final and, of course, brings Yuri along too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm new to this fandom but not to YOI♥  
> This kind of wrote itself after I watched the last episode :'''''''''''')
> 
> Please bear in mind this happens after ep.12 so there's one major spoiler!
> 
> That's it, enjoy :)

“I said just water, pig! I’m not hungry!” Yurio barked, his hair flapping on his face and letting only a very bright green pupil shine through. Yuuri blushed and the waitress let a small gasp out at the unexpected outburst from the quiet, seemingly angelical kid.

“Sorry about that,” Viktor said, with a gentle smile. “Whatever’s on the kids’ menu will do….won’t it, Yurio?”

Yurio gripped at the silky white tablecloth and felt his eye twitch at the man’s challenging gaze. Viktor had a way of being nice and civil that grated on his way more straightforward nature. And yet it somehow inhibited him. “Whatever!”

“There’s no need to be so…” Yuuri tried to start a conversation once the woman was gone. “You won the gold medal after all, eh.”

“ Had to! _I_ am the best ice skater.” He cocked his head to the side, blonde locks following. “And I’ll beat your record, asshole. Just you watch!”

“0.12 points, Yurio… is that something to be that proud about, hm? When _I_ beat Chris…”

“I’m not “ _Yurio_ ” How many ti-”

“It was by a far wider margin.” Viktor shot a smirk and shrugged a shoulder at Yuuri who was sitting a bit too straight, looking as if he was holding a posture, his eyes this side of spacey. “Hey…” he slid on his chair along the round table and threw an arm around the brunet’s neck. “I’m sure next time you’ll win for at least a one-point difference…and I’ll kiss your gold medal.”

“It’s not that,” Yuuri squirmed but let some tension leave his body until a peck on his cheek made his face catch colour. Yurio growled aloud and fished his phone out of his jeans pocket.

“What then? I’ll break both your records so there’s no use in worrying about that, Yuuri.”

“Shut up! I won’t let you!” Yurio huffed. “LISTEN TO ME!”

“I’m just…” Yuuri slid his hand up on the table to show the radiant man the ring that still sat there on his finger. Nobody had ever inspired him as much as Viktor did, they’d believed in him, sure, but when it was just him in the ice rink he’d feel as if stuck in a quicksand, his every insecurity coming at him at the same time and him there, helpless, alone. Was Viktor even conscious of this? He wasn’t thankful just for having him help him win a medal and work his way into a podium, or for being taught some difficult jumps. It was him, and as open as he was about their affection and kept on making wedding jokes the truth remained that in less than a day he and Yurio would be boarding on a plane that would take them back to Russia and he on another one. He did miss his family, of course, but…

“What _now_ , Viktor?” He turned his head into the man’s breath but closed his eyes, afraid tears would spill, or words, stupid.

“Food! FOOD!” Yurio slammed a fist on the table, the waitress giving him a wide berth as she left the water bottle and small woven basket full of fried things on his side and then quickly turned to put the other men’s plates down. “Just stop that, ugh! Weren’t you hungry, pig?!”

“Who is talking? I don’t talk to black hoods yet, sorry.”

Yurio swept the warm cotton back and leaned over the table. “Eat! I’m not here to watch a real-life lame romantic movie.”

“What are you here for, then?” Viktor asked, still clinging to Yuuri, and stealing one chip from his plate, dipping it in some red sauce before murmuring into his ear. “Mmm sweet like you.”

“You dragged me! Both of you!”

Yuuri opened his mouth but Viktor beat him to it. “Oh, did I?”

“You! You…” And so he dropped his voice, defeated, snagging the dewy bottle of water and drinking straight out of it. And maybe wolfing down one or three dinosaur-shaped nuggets. _So what! They’re tasty!_ He sank back into his chair when he was done and resumed a game on his phone, volume turned all the way up, and even then he could still hear the giggles, and squishy sounds and things…things not very PG. “Ugh, morons!”

“What, what’s that again hood-thing?”

“Cut. It. Out.”

“Oh, look at that Yuuri!” Viktor raised their interlocked hands and pointed at the boy “IT IS YURI PLISETSKY!” He shouted and squeezed the cold hand below him, giggling again, loving the feeling of their rings clinking while he messed with the child that reminded him of his younger self so often. “Remember: always be kind to the fans, Yurio!” Viktor winked at him and got up, grabbing his plate and dragging Yuuri and the chicken leg he was munching on to a nearby free table, just for two and by a glass pane. He waved at Yurio and the girls soon surrounding him, sitting around and ordering food enough to feed the squadrons they were calling and will see soon crowding the restaurant whole. They were the best fans.

And so that every selfie was special, they each brought different cat ears headbands!

Yurio double-checked Viktor’s headphones were plugged into his phone as he blasted his heavy rock playlist on repeat while Viktor slept through their flight to Russia like the lazy slug he’d turned into. He was being merciful, after all, he still felt ghost lips pressing into his cheek, lipstick wet and smudging. He was briefly afraid lips could get carved into his soft skin. Otabek had sent him a tears-of-joy emoji when he texted him that. _Why did he not get it?! It was a tragedy!_

The next day Viktor watched the blonde lighten up as he himself stroked his temples and yawned and complained about some weird loud engine sounds as they went through customs. Yurio smiled impishly and was all the more happy when he spotted his grandfather and sprang to where he was sitting, reading a book. Viktor greeted the tranquil man politely before patting Yurio’s head goodbye and even receiving a rough, ‘take care, loser.’ for a reply.

He waved them off and took out his phone to see if Yuuri had texted him yet. Seeing he hadn’t, he tapped out a reply himself.

**_Viktor. 3.40 p.m:_ **

**_Made it home safe yet? I let Yurio win for once as you pleaded. Hope he doesn’t get too cocky :P  
_ **

  
Phone safely put away he clutched his handbag and started walking towards the exit, happy to be back to his homeland even if for a short while. He’d missed the familiar streets and shops, the breath-taking landscapes…and the mediocre ones too, the ice rink that had seen him practice until his toes where bruised and swollen and bloody.

Walking out into a bustling avenue he breathed in the characteristic crisp icy air and frowned at the unusual silence that surrounded him.

“Oh!” He remembered with a jolt, soon moving his hands to carefully take the noise-cancelling earplugs out from each ear. He laughed aloud at his absent-mindedness and walked on, tapping reassuringly on his coat pocket, where a plane ticket to Japan for next week had been tucked away only minutes ago.

“I won’t forget _that_!”

But, just to be safe, he’d got a flexible-date ticket, two in fact. You never know when an angry teenager might pop up and demand something or other, a program…or a pork cutlet bowl.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ i'm setting up a sideblog come say hi if u want you may be my First Follower™ :)](https://yuriothekitten.tumblr.com/)


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